Dear Stan(ford)
by Fordanoia
Summary: Ford may have been gone, but that didn't mean the mail stopped. After living at the shack for a little while, Stan eventually started to open up the letters addressed to his brother.
1. Sorting The Mail

It's the first time he actually looked through the mail since the accident. Stan had held it off for as long as he could. He wanted this to be done with already. The first hour after Ford went through the portal Stan had been panicking, pulling the lever and flipping nearly every switch he could have sworn they had probably hit during their fight.

That stupid, stupid fight.

After that though, he started trying to actually figure out an order or something, anything. Nothing worked. He hoped maybe he could figure out just how to activate the damned machine. It had happened without anybody looking the first time so why was it so hard now?!

It was beyond frustrating, and he was just hoping for a miracle chance that he'd get it right. He didn't. That's what he got for hoping he'd get lucky though. Stan already knew he had horrible luck.

Horrible luck and a pile of mail all addressed to Stanford Pines. Going through the mail felt like admitting this would take longer, but if the electricity went out then he literally wouldn't be able to even do anything.

He tossed them into piles on the table as he went through the stack. Mostly bills. Some junk mail. A couple letters from the grant beneficiaries. His hands froze though after he tossed one letter aside to see an envelope with Ma's slanting handwriting on the front of it.

For just half a second, he thought Ma had somehow figured out where he was. Then of course he saw the obvious.  
Stanford Pines.  
Just like every other envelope in the bunch.

Letting out a quiet breath, he set the letter on the edge of the table then filtered through what was rest of the mail.

He didn't open it.

Bills and the letters about the grant or research were one thing, but personal letters were different. At that a personal letter from their Ma.

Ha, Ford would be pissed at him if he saw he'd opened the letter.

Yeah, man... he could already see it. Ford spotting the already opened envelope from Ma and asking him why he'd even opened it in the first place. He'd probably say it was an infringement on privacy and completely unnecessary or something like that. Maybe go on about how much of a knucklehead he was for opening it and how he'd taken so long to figure out how to just activate the portal.

Maybe he'd understand though. It's not like he'd open up the letter the minute Ford went missing after all.

Stan picked up the letter and held it in his hands looking at it. Ma's handwriting was always a bit messy, and frankly that made it stick out like a sore thumb. Slanted with letters running into one another like she was writing it with one hand on the phone or looking at her nails.

Stanford Pines  
618 Gopher Rd  
Gravity Falls, OR

He sighed, forearms resting on the table as he continued to hold onto the letter. He gently tapped the letter against the table and imagined tossing it back onto the table, but he didn't do it. He didn't want to deal with this, but the bigger factor was it felt disrespectful. The idea made him stop though.

'Respectful' was not exactly some standard he tried to hold himself to, and at that what was so disrespectful about it, huh? He'd already tossed some of the mail onto the ground, junk mail and some nerdy magazine subscriptions or whatever.

If anything Stan was probably treating Ford's stuff better than the nerd himself would if he were still here.

Something curdled in his stomach, and almost to spite the feeling he flippantly tossed the letter back onto the table instead of just imagining it this time. The letter spun slightly and budged up against one of the sets of envelopes.

It felt wrong and his stomach twisted a little as soon as he did it.

It wasn't like he was-! He was just gone! Sure, it was starting to get a little bit now, but people took vacations for longer than this.

The only reason he had to be careful with Ford's stuff was so his brother wouldn't get mad at him for making his place somehow more of a mess. He'd probably actually have to TRY to manage that though.

And there was no reason to even open up the letter either! Did he want to? Yeah, sure. Stan was a big enough man to admit there was a part of him that wanted to carefully open up the paper envelope and read the letter.

Sure, Stan had gotten into another man's stuff before, but this was different. There was a reason he made sure to put everything back in its place when he searched through Ford's bedroom.  
A super simple and obvious reason, of course.  
Like come on, he wasn't that much of an idiot.  
You don't mess up someone's stuff when they're gonna come back to it in five minutes. They'll notice the second they get back.

Pushing himself up from the table, Stan grabbed the letter again and went back through the hallway and upstairs.

Ford's door swung open easily, and Stan walked over to the desk, finding a cleared off spot. He pushed the envelope onto the lacquered wood, ignoring how it wiped off a thin film of dust. As Stan walked out of the room, he unceremoniously closed the door after himself as he kept moving forward.


	2. She Cares About You

Over the months, Stan had gotten into a pretty steady rhythm once he officially set up the Murder Hut.

Granted, the whole Murder Hut business was a last minute decision, but it had worked out! After the cash from the first time, he started official tours. Move some of the nerd science junk and make some stuff he could point out at for everyone. The more he did the more the people ate it up! For the first time, he actually had a steady business that was one hundred percent mostly legal!

It was easy too. Make some weird attractions. Give some tours and sell overpriced merch during the day. Pay the bills that came in the mail. He could handle most of them, but that electricity bill was something else. When he opened up the first electricity bill he nearly doubled over.

Lucky him though, it was the only bill he couldn't skimp out on. No electricity meant no power for the portal. On the bright side, he saved a lot of money by shoplifting some of his groceries. He paid for some of the food.

He was walking back from the mailbox, flipping through the mail when he cringed as he saw a familiar slanted handwriting. A second letter from Ma.

It was still addressed to Ford, of course, but Stan had gotten more than used to opening up mail with his brother's name on it. Outside of the bills though, he didn't care for it. He introduced himself as Stan whenever he could. A few people had already called him Stanford though and it'd made his skin crawl.

Frowning, he set all the other mail onto a table once he was back inside. There were some bills and junk mail, but nothing personal.

Ma had just sent a letter, hadn't she? Well- okay, it had to have been at least a few months now, but it didn't _feel_ like that long ago. So, this could just be an ordinary letter. Or it could be something urgent that happened. He honestly had no idea how often Ford and Ma wrote back to each other. I mean, they both had phones.

Slowly, Stan frowned to himself. Before he even started up this business he had found Ford's phone with its line cut. He hadn't bothered with it since he found it though. Why fix a phone if you were just going to ignore calls that were for someone else entirely.

She had probably already tried calling so either she didn't wait for responses to her letters, or this was urgent. For all he knew, it could have been a letter telling him she was coming over to visit.

Christ, Stan could not do that. He'd probably die of a heart attack on the spot if Ma suddenly showed up one day while he was giving tours.

He still didn't want to open the letter. If he was sure it was fine, he'd just put it with the other one from Ma for Ford to open up himself once he came back. The problem though was he didn't know when he was getting Ford back, and waiting to open up the letters until then might be a bad idea. He didn't want to risk Ma swinging by for an unexpected visit.

Stan eyed the letter over, letting out a slow breath. He'd opened dozens of letters for Ford by now, it wasn't a big deal.

Carefully, he opened the envelope and pulled out the letter inside.

* * *

 _Dear Stanford,_ _  
_ _  
_ _I have called you countless times now, and every time the call won't go through. I haven't even been able to leave a voice message._ _  
_ _  
_ _If you are reading this letter, I want you to call me this INSTANT. I mean it, Stanford Filbrick Pines. I haven't heard from you in over a year. No letters, no phone calls - it's like you've dropped off the face of the Earth!_ _  
_ _  
_ _I don't know what's going on, but I want to at least know that you're still alive. I'm worried something's happened to you._ _  
_ _  
_ _Love,_  
 _Ma_

* * *

He grimaced before he even finished the first sentence. Once, he finally finished the letter he sucked in a breath through his teeth and folded it back up. He placed it back into the envelope and set it onto the table beside the rest of the mail.

So, it wasn't calling the police or announcing she was coming to Oregon to look for him, but she was only a stone's throw from getting to that point. He didn't know if he could fake his way through a whole visit, but he knew for a fact that he did not need any police sniffing around him.

"Damnit Ford."

Oh no. No, his brother couldn't just ignore calls like everybody else in the world did. He just had to cut the phone's cord!

Then again, maybe it didn't matter that much. Who knew how long it would take him to get the portal working. Another few months and Ma probably would have gotten worried anyway.

He just had to get back to her. She said to call, but in all honestly, he didn't want to. He'd rather send a letter. What if she'd be able to tell instantly from his voice that he wasn't actually Ford? Mother's intuition or whatever.

The problem was how long it'd take the letter to actually get all the way across the country. The last thing he needed was a missing person's report on Ford.

Stan shut his eyes. Okay, okay, here was the plan. He'd call her, but it'd be a short call. He'd pretend to be Ford and say he was just calling to let her know he'd gotten her letter. He'd give her some excuse about being in a rush then say goodbye.

If she realized it wasn't him right off the bat then he'd figure out what to do then. He wasn't using Ford's actual phone, for obvious reasons, so he wouldn't even be calling from Ford's number.

Overall, there was a lot that could go wrong. As long as Ma didn't call the cops though that was a win.

Stan grabbed his keys and went back out of the door to his car. Driving to a small diner nearby, he went up to the empty payphone. He let out a heavy breath, settling his hand on the phone before picking it up.

His brother's voice hadn't changed that much, it'd be a piece of cake.  
"Hey, Ma." Not bad, try again.  
"Hi, Ma." There we go.  
Stan shrugged his shoulders, looking to the side. "Oh, I was just so busy with my research, Ma." He laughed lightly, but it echoed back to him from the plexiglass, wrong and sour.

He waited a couple seconds, thinking of trying it over again and deciding against it. Looking back to the phone, he finally picked up and dialed Ma's number. His fingers tapped on the handle as he waited for her to pick up between rings.

It didn't take long for her voice to come crackling over the crackling phone line. "Mystical Psychic, a dollah a minute."

"Hi Ma, it's me."

There was a pause on the phone and Stan held his breath before she replied. "Stanford! I swear, ya had me worried sick!"

"I know, I'm sorry, Ma. I was just so busy."

"Too busy to send your own mother a letter back?" She fired back, no doubt raising an eyebrow all the way across the country.

"Uh n-no, I guess not." Ha, first time Ma had physically spoken to him in years and she was reprimanding him.

She loudly sighed into the phone, muttering. "Yer gonna be the death of me." There was another distinctive huff of air before she continued, the slight motherly scolding tone gone. "Why's it I can't call your phone?"

"Oh, well it broke." Broke, line cut – same thing, right?

"When did it break?"

 _Whenever Ford started worrying about people stealing his eyes, probably_.  
He shrugged. "A couple months ago, probably. I just haven't had the time to replace it."

Ma barked out a lighthearted laugh. "Try several months ago, hon. I tried calling you back in December."

"Well then I better go and replace it before I forget again." Stan said, rushing a bit to talk. "There's a line behind me for the phone, and all my research – there's a lot – that I need to work on. I'll write you though, Ma."

"Wait, wait, wait," Her voice stopped him before he could say goodbye, "hon…"

Oh, God, had she already figured out it wasn't actually Ford? This was exactly why he didn't want to call. He knuckled down on his imitation of Ford. Wordy, rushed, shifting- no, no! No, what his brother would've sounded like if he **hadn't** been a paranoid mess. Nerdy, and completely fine.

"Yes, Ma?" There was a bit of a long pause, and Stan talked more, continuing with the most convincing act he could put up. "I'll catch up with you later, I promise. I've just been working on magnetizing the polarity of spatial gravity, and I'm this close to a breakthrough!"

When Ma spoke he could almost hear the slight smile in her voice. "That's great, sweetheart." Then she paused, before continuing slowly. "I just gotta ask, nothing's… changed, right?"

"What do you mean?" Stan asked, not entirely relieved that he was off the hook yet.

"Oh, you know. You haven't made any new friends, or talked to any old ones? Letters? Nothing like that in the past year?"

"Ma," he started, gently easing back to a goodbye, "I'm sorry, but I only brought enough change with me for a couple minutes."

"Alright… but I better hear from one of my sons this month, yeah? And fix your phone, sweetie."

 _One of her sons_ …?

Nonchalantly, her voice continued. "And don't forget to ring me once your phone is up."

"Right, of course, I'll try." He replied a bit quickly.

"Talk to you later, sweetie. I love you."

He hesitated for just a split second. "I love you too, Ma. Bye."

"Bye, Ford." Then the line went dead.

Slowly, Stan hung the phone back onto the cradle. He started to laugh light as he moved out of the phone booth, ignoring a sinking feeling in his chest.

No missing person's report. No visit from Ma. And she didn't realize she had actually been talking to the wrong twin. Sure, she was expecting another call, but he'd just write a letter back saying he still hadn't fixed the phone yet. A letter had to be easier than a call.

There was maybe, just the _slightest_ bit of some guilt as he drifted back to his car. Nothing compared to what he dealt with whenever he looked at the portal though. Besides, there wasn't any reason to feel _that_ guilty right now.

He lied to her, yeah, but it wasn't the first time he'd lied to her. Heck, growing up she'd been the one to teach them how to lie to people. She did it all the time as a psychic. As long as she could read the person, she could keep them hooked on the line forever. People almost always wanted answers or messages from lost loved ones.

The easiest way to get someone to believe your lie is by giving them what they want to hear, she'd tell him, and that's all Stan had done.

Ma had wanted to hear Ford, after all. Not him.


End file.
